Yes, No
by MessyJess
Summary: A one-shot from Booth's POV about how hard it is to have certain conversations with Bones.


No way was this a good idea

No way was this a good idea. Somehow, for some inexplicable stupid reason, he had started this conversation, and it had gone completely off course. Careening off course, in fact, hurtling full-throttle toward a subject that was going to be awkward, and possibly even maddening for him. She would be fine, oh yeah, it would totally just bounce right off of her. She wouldn't give anything they were saying a second thought. But not him. No, he would be haunted by this conversation. Haunted by all sorts of thoughts that would come rushing into his mind the moment he sat on his couch, or ate lunch at his desk, or laid alone in bed at night.

Yes, soon every commercial break or time out during a football game would be an opportunity for the floodgates to open and for thoughts about _this_ conversation and what it made him feel and think to come rushing at him and turn his mind into mush. He would spend spare moments thinking about _her_ and the things that she says for months, possibly even for years after they have finished having this little chat.

No point in resisting now. She would be upset at his sudden retraction of desire to talk and get defensive and shut down on him. That was the last thing he wanted. He loved her talking to him about her life. Open and honest whether her stories are happy or sad. Her eyes looking at him and her lips curving in a smile or a frown, depending. He _loved_ these moments, and so instead of stopping her short, cutting her off, he didn't say a word. He resigned himself to the coming onslaught of memory and fantasy that would inevitably result from this time with Bones.

Yes, it had started out innocently enough. They were sitting in a rundown car, on yet another stakeout. Bored, tired, and uncomfortable, Seeley had decided to start a casual conversation. He asked her about her high school years. He knew she was a quiet girl. Never popular or even noticed. She was lanky and gawky and a nerd. It was endearing to hear her talk, and a little sad to hear her voice take on that tone of accepted rejection. He wished he had known her then. Then she had shifted the focus to him, and that's when he made his fatal mistake.

No, he never should have mentioned Pam Troy. Pam Troy was the best kisser in school. Everyone knew it, and Booth had wanted to experience it for himself. He remarked fondly on the several hours he spent doing nothing but kissing Pam Troy in the front seat of his car at a park near his house in Philly. He saw something in Bones' face change at the end of his story. A sort of wistful look that settled into her eyes. He had asked her if he'd said something wrong. He was never sure what would be considered offensive with her.

Yes, she was fine. No, he'd said nothing wrong. She was just thinking about how much she regretted moving around so much during her teenage years. Going from one foster family to the next and having to change schools. She never had a boyfriend, or confidantes, and the closest she came was overhearing girls giggle amongst themselves in the bathroom at school. She remembered the first time she ever really kissed a boy. It was her freshman year in college. Booth smiled at the look of fondness that memory brought to her face. He asked her to tell her story.

No, it was too embarrassing for her. But he egged her on and she finally gave in. She met a boy in her world literature class and they went for pizza later in the week. He walked her back to her dorm and he had kissed her. And when she discovered kissing, she loved it. Loved everything about it. And when she started to describe why and how she loved it, that's when Booth realized he was totally screwed. That for the next millennia he was going to think and dream about kissing Bones. And that was bad.

Yes, she definitely loved kissing, and she went on about it in detail. Specifically, she loved the warmth and the slick slide of another person's tongue against hers. She loved the hot air that passed from one set of lungs to the other and the slightly light-headed feeling when a kiss lasted for moment after moment. She loved the cool contrast of teeth and lips and tongue. But her absolute favorite thing was picking out from the thousands of tastes in someone's mouth, which one was just exactly that person. She asked him if he had ever thought about that.

No, he had never thought about that. Unfortunately, though, he was now going to think about that _all_ the time. They were so close in that beat up jalopy. He could smell her hair and all he wanted to do was find out which taste was specifically Temperance Brennan's. Life was so unfair. He was a martyr, really. He should be enshrined in the halls of angels for not jumping across the parking brake and licking his way into his partner's favorite things list.

Yes, Seeley Booth was a saint. But one day, maybe not too far into the future, he wasn't going to be the saint. One day Seeley Booth was going to sin. And Temperance Brennan was going to be there when he did. And she was going to love it.


End file.
